


Oh shit, It's the sidekick!

by ziggs



Category: Deadpool (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Multi, lots of black flag references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6024619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziggs/pseuds/ziggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a homeless teen gets taken under Deadpool's wing as his new sidekick/protege. Chaos, romance, and embarrassingly bad puns ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nervous Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup guys, this is my first Deadpool fanfic and also my first post to this site! Hope you guys enjoy.

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, hitting me square in the face. I blinked my eyes, cursing the morning. I swear I closed the black out curtains last night--

"Key! Kiana!" Angel, one of the other foster kids, yelled up the stairs to my room. I rolled out of bed and onto the floor with a thump, crawling over to the window and pulling the curtains shut. "Kiiiiiaaaaannnaa! Hurry up, slowpoke!" He hollered, banging on the wall and running down the rest of the steps back to whatever part of the house the little brat was in before. Seriously, he had way too much energy for an eleven year old. I yawned and pulled myself up off the floor, steadying myself on my small space heater. Awake and standing, I stretched my limbs, and cracked my back; Sighing at the successful pops of my joints. Ah, Another day. I glanced at the clock, 8:30. Why was I awake so fucking goddamned early? I tripped over a pile of clothes, trying to make my way to my cold, wooden attic wall. I glanced at the tacky Michael Jackson calendar that was crudely taped up there, my sleep foggy eyes searching for today's date. My heart stopped when my eyes landed on the third week of the month. Today was March 20th. I had it circled and underlined twice in red, a little skull and crossbones drawn in my old crude pre-teen penmanship. My birthday. I should have been more prepared, really, but I never know what day it is anymore. They're all the same here. I nearly forgot it was even March, But here I am. 18 and unprepared. Emotionally, and physically. My lack of awareness really showed when I turned around and noticed that most of my room was backed up in two little neat boxes. Was I really that heavy of a sleeper? Upon closer inspection, I found a little sticky note with tell tale handwriting.

"I packed so you didn't have to, but I'm not touching that dirty pile of clothes xoxo - Gail"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was an hour later before I stumbled downstairs into the kitchen, wearing my signature black tattered sweatshirt (unzipped with a black flag t-shirt) and ratty jeans. My not-so-neon green converses peeking out the bottom. My hair was messier than usual, sitting like a dirty black mop on top of my head. The curls were apparent, spilling over my shoulders like pitch black storm clouds. I rubbed the crust out of my eyes, before stopping dead in my tracks. The social workers were already there, filling out the last of my discharge paperwork. I probably forgot to mention this, but being 18 meant being discharged from foster care in a process called "aging out". That's when they basically throw you out on the street and tell you to go fuck yourself. My heart was racing. I had no idea where to go. No job. No money. Oh, and like a half a tank of gas. Choking back my tears, I quickly walked up to them. Gail (my foster mother) and my "support team" (An assortment of smiling doctors and psychiatrists who I've only met four times) were talking to the old balding man (whose name I always forgot though he's the supposed head of my support team) and Dorkus (my social worker whose name I remembered because, come one, how could anyone forget THAT name?).

"Um. Hello." I spoke, my voice cracked from the morning cigarette I had a few minutes earlier. I was sure the old vulture looking man smelt it on me, because his already upturned nose was even higher, and his leathery face was twisted in a slight look of disgust. Dorkus smiled warmly, her straight white teeth gleaming. She handed me a birthday card, as if that would help ease me. I had no idea where I was going, and nobody seemed to know either. I was just... discharged. Gail gave me a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Alright, Kiana" Bald guy spoke, turning towards me and handing me a small slip of yellow paper. "All you have to do is sign here and you are officially no longer in the system." I looked up at him and around to the smiling staff, then down at the slip. It was basically a bunch of legal words and phrases jumbled up and typed out, foreign like a different language I had yet to learn. I was handed a pen, and I signed. I looked up into their smiling faces again, their smiles looking somewhat more sinister now. I felt as if they were closing in all around me, laughing at me. My chest constricted with a sudden onslaught of anxiety. I had been here a whole four years yet I have no friends or close connections to show for it. I barely have anything. All I have is two boxes of clothes and this shitty slip of paper.

 

Fuck them.

 

I turned around and ran upstairs, angry tears of frustration just managing to slip out. I slammed my door, throwing myself onto my dirty bed. I was so scared, so unprepared, so alone. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me, like everyone was against me. I've lived here for years, and it seemed like it was so easy for them to just remove me like I never even existed. I wiped my tears with the back of my sleeve, pulling myself out of bed and kicking the bottom of my headboard in frustration. Nothing fucking mattered anymore. The only thing I had to my name was a shitty car with overdue tickets. God, I need a smoke. I need something. I need a life. I sat down against my wall, resting my head on my knees. "Fuck... fuck." I seethed, clenching my fists in my hair. It seems like I've been alone forever, even before my parents bailed. My dad was never home, my mother was distant and she disappeared a lot. Even here, I feel as if I raised myself. But now, I would be losing everybody all over again. I suddenly needed to grow up, and that's really not fucking cool.

I sucked it up though, wiping my puffy eyes; and stood up, dusting myself off. I tore whatever pictures I had off the walls, (along with my calendar) and shoved them into my box. I picked up my pile of dirty clothes, stuffing them in too. My drawers were empty, my notebooks all packed up. I double checked everything before picking up my boxes and storming downstairs with my keys and birthday card placed on top. I walked past the staff, the playing kids, tripping over toys and people. I walked right out the door of my old home, and to my car. I just didn't want to think about it, or think about anything for that matter. But then, it hit me. And I suddenly knew where to go. It's a longshot, but it's worth it. I started the car, my fingers shaking. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. I looked up, meeting with a teary eyed Gail. I rolled down the window, and she automatically pulled me close, placing frantic kisses to the top of my head. She was whispering goodbyes, stroking my hair.

"You know I'd let you stay with me if I had the room" She whispered, kissing my head. "I love you, stay safe. If you ever need help, just call me."

 

\-- 

I drove for three hours.

 

Three whole hours to Manhattan, NY.

 

I drove up to the battered apartment building that I remember visiting often as a young teen. I hope he still lives here, he's supposed to at least. Frank was an old best friend and band mate of mine from before the foster home. He had short, shaggy dreads and a nose ring, and I may have had a thing for him back in the day, but I was sort of taken. Hopefully, he still lives here and has a place for me to crash. I sighed and turned off my car, patting the dashboard. "S'okay, girl. Let's see if I can crash here." I heaved myself out of the small car, slamming the door shut and walking up to the back door. I walked into the dingy apartment building, riding the small elevator to the top floor. It took me three knocks and a two door bells until a gruff voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, fuck. I'm coming." A deep male voice growled, moving what sounded like a lock and swinging the door open. The stench of stale fast food and old blood slapped me hard across the face as I was met face to shoulder with a masked man in a red and black leather/spandex suit. I had heard about them, superheros I mean. But It was so bizarre and threw me way the fuck off as I was suddenly met with one right in front of me. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked, his voice surprisingly cheerful despite the rude sentence. He blatantly eyed me up and down, making me shift uncomfortably.

"U-Uh" I stammered, completely confused. "I'm guessing Frank doesn't live here?" I squeaked.

"Who's Frank?" He asked, scratching his head. "No Frank here, sorry toots."

Well isn't that the icing on the fucking cake? I had spent the last of my money and gas driving three fucking hours to fucking manhattan just to find out Frank's gone and I have no place to live! I couldn't help the tears flowing down my face, as I openly sobbed in front of a person I barely even knew. I turned away, trying to spare him the sight of my awful crying face that would put Kim Kardashian's to shame.

"Erm... Hey... " He awkwardly spoke, placing a large hand on my shoulder. "I'm like, in no position to judge, but you're kinda weirding me out. I mean, some random hot chick just shows up on my doorstep asking about some dude I never met then starts bawling her eyes out. What's your deal?"

I shrug his hand off my shoulder.

"It's not like you'd help." I spat, suddenly bitter.

"Welp, you're right about that!" He spoke cheerfully, slamming the door in my face.

"Wait!" I cried, banging on the door. I didn't have many options left, and this guy seemed like a superhero, right? Maybe he could help. "I'm sorry, I just...!" my banging grew weaker and weaker as the overwhelming sense of dread weighed me down like a ton of bricks. The door opened once again, and I was quickly pulled inside, roughly thrown against the wall.

"Alright, now you're pissing me off. What's your issue lady?" He growled, crossing his arms. This isn't the way a superhero would act, not at all. I may have jumped the gun a little bit. But then again, I wasn't known for my outstanding common sense. I mean, look at the situation I'm in.

"I just..." I sniffed, wiping my tears and snot with my sleeve. "Today's my 18th birthday. I aged out of the foster home I was living at and they basically threw me out on the streets with two boxes of clothes and $30 to my name. I just drove three fucking hours from Rhode Island all the way here just to find out my best friend is gone and now I'm homeless and hopeless!!" I threw my hands into the air and slid down the wall, sitting on the floor. "And I have no one! No one at all!" I sobbed, folding my arms over my knees. As I heard footsteps creep closer to me I slowly peered up through my curly hair, watching the masked man. He crouched down, leaning close.

"Alright, alright. Your life sounds really shitty right now, and you're lucky I'm feeling pretty sympathetic." He started, pushing the hair out of my eyes. "hmm....yeah she is pretty cute..." He muttered, throwing me off. He suddenly stood up, speaking loudly. "Alright, pretty lady, I have a proposition for you!" He folded his arms behind his back, pacing back and forth. "I'll allow you to live with me rent free... IF you become my new kickass sidekick!" He proclaimed, turning towards me and placing his hands on his hips. I could make out a huge grin from behind his mask, the white eyes creasing at the edges. "If I'm gonna turn a new leaf a become a hero like I promised Spidey, I'd need a sidekick, and with your perfect dramatic backstory and nice rack, you'd be perfect for the part!" He exclaimed gleefully, clasping his hands together.

"Wha--" I asked, confused. I wiped my tear stained face, slowly standing up. "Spidey, as in Spiderman?" I was still trying to process everything he had just said. This has to be hands down the weirdest birthday I've ever had.

"No, Spidey as in my pet fucking tarantula OF COURSE I MEANT SPIDERMAN! Jeez... If you're gonna be my sidekick you gotta at least have some brains!" Even though he was wearing a mask, I could practically see the dramatic eye roll he gave me.

"How... How can I even be a sidekick? I don't have any special powers!" I asked incredulously.

"You don't need any special powers, just some awesome badass ninja style training from yours truly!" He grinned. "So what do you say--uh... what's your name?"

 

"Kiana."

 

"Kiara! What do you say?" He spoke enthusiastically. I carefully weighed my options. Sleep in my car outside in the cold, possibly get raped/mugged/murdered, be homeless... or stay here with this obviously insane man rent free and learn how to kick ass?

 

"Fuck it." I shrugged. "I'll do it."


	2. Nothing Left Inside

My lungs were screaming at me.   
  


“C’mon, if you’re gonna be working with me you need to know how to keep up!” Deadpool yelled, about three rooftops away from me. I panted, trying my hardest to keep up with his pace. I was never one for physical activity, and the fact that I smoked about half a pack a day didn’t help at all. “Let’s get physical! Physical! I wanna get physicaallll!!” Deadpool sang in the distance, his voice growing smaller and smaller the further away he ran. My legs were giving up on me, my calves screaming in protest. I clenched my side, wheezing and slowly wobbling to a stop.    
  
“J-Just.. Keep… going without me…” I gasped, though it was useless as Deadpool was long gone by now. “Oh god.. what the fuck…” I coughed, dropping to my knees and then laying on my side, trying to catch my breath. “How the fuck do people do this for a living I want to die” I groaned. I was really starting to regret this. 

 

Yesterday, after I agreed to Deadpool’s terms, he gave me “the grand tour” of his apartment. It wasn’t much different from when Frank lived there, but definitely way more holes and bloodstains. The kitchen was filled with old take-out containers, the sink overfilled with dishes. The bathroom was surprisingly not as disgusting as I thought it would be, but I did notice the mirror above the sink had been shattered and the shower had lacked a curtain. His bedroom (“The best room in the house” he crooned suggestively) was nothing more than a boxspring and a mattress on the floor, tell tale blood stains trailing from the window to the bed. He had a dresser and closet that lacked a door. He then led me to the guest room, which was filled to the brim with all sorts of artillery, enough for a small army. It sent shivers down my spine. Towards the end of the night, he made me sleep on his shitty taco grease stained couch; and woke me up at the literal asscrack of dawn to start his ridiculous training. So far I had scaled the apartment building (More like I climbed out the window, noticed how high I was, then froze in fear and cried until Deadpool carried me to the top), did a vigourous core workout routine as “just a warm up” and now I was expected to jump 10 foot gaps between buildings and keep up with the crazy ex-merc. Well, that’s when I draw the metaphorical line. Right there.

 

I rolled onto my back, staring into the blue of the sky. My breathing slowly started to even out, thank god.   
  
“Hey, I’m not training you to take naps on the roof!” Deadpool’s sudden booming voice scared the ever living shit out of me, causing me to yelp and sit up. My eyes followed from his scuffed boots up and up and up until I met his masked eyes. Damn this man was tall. I felt more like a small child then, pouting and crossing my arms.   
  
“I’m tiiiired” I whined. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough training today?”   
  
“Do you think Tyler Durden gave up when things got tough? Rocky Balboa? Some other guy from a fighting movie? No! They pushed through it and now look where they ended up, with a bunch of movie awards and immortalized through film geeks everywhere!” Deadpool ranted, pulling me to my feet. I think that whole spiel was supposed to motivate me but it made me even more tired. “We haven’t even gotten to combat training yet, which is like, the most important part!”   
  
“Deadpool those people aren’t real! I’m exhausted! You’re talking to someone who hasn’t participated in any physical activity since elementary school!” I countered back, trying to steady my wobbly legs by clinging onto Pool’s muscular arm. “Can we at least take a lunch break?” I pleaded, giving him the puppy dog eyes. He sighed dramatically.   
  
“I guess I can go for some tacos” He huffed, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder fireman style.   
  
“Hey!” I countered, kicking my legs weakly.   
  
“Your legs are basically jelly right now, which is totally not ideal for climbing down the side of a building.” He explained, walking to the edge of the building. We were about four stories up, so when he simply leapt off the side of the building, I couldn’t help the scream that escaped my throat. We landed in an alleyway with a sickening and very audible crack of Deadpool’s legs and knees.   
  
“What the fuck was that?!” I exclaimed, scrambling out of his grip and falling backwards onto the ground. Deadpool’s legs were obviously broken, one of them bent at an ungodly angle. “Jesus christ, your legs!”   
  
“Ah, don’t worry about little ol’ me. Give it about five minutes and they’ll be good as new!” He spoke proudly, twisting his legs into place with an awful crack. I pulled myself up, gaping at him as he walked around in a circle, as if to show me that his legs were already feeling better. “See? Good ol’ healing factor. Working right on time.”   
  
“That’s disgusting.” I remarked, face twisted in a look of horror and disgust.   
  


“Let’s go get some tacos!” He exclaimed cheerfully, ignoring my obvious discomfort. He grabbed me by my arm, pulling me towards the street. “I know this amazing place right down the street too, $1 tacos! Isn’t that crazy? Everyone there knows me, so sometimes I can convince them to give me a whole shitload for free!” He babbled, as we walked down the street to the restaurant.    
  
“Oh, shitload. I get it, cause you shit a load.” I smirked weakly, my legs still aching.    
  
“Woah, great pun work Watson!” He spoke surprised. “I’m almost jealous I didn’t catch that one. See? I knew right when I saw your ugly kardashian crying face you’d be a perfect sidekick!” I punched him in the arm, though he barely budged and my knuckles kinda hurt from slamming into rock hard muscle. He laughed it off though, and soon we arrived at the mexican restaurant. As soon as we walked through the doors, every worker in the restaurant turned simultaneously.   
  
“Deadpool!” They all shouted happily. Woah, he really wasn’t playing when he said they all knew him. An older looking mexican man came out from behind the counter, walking up to us.   
  
“Deadpool!  _ Mi compadre _ ! Getting the usual today?” He smiled, showing off a row of shiny white teeth. “And who is this  _ mujer hermosa _ ?” Being hispanic myself, I blushed at his comment.   
  
“ _ Yo soy Kiana, un amiga de Deadpool _ .” I took the liberty of introducing myself, shaking the man’s hand. Deadpool stared at me, a look of shock washing over his masked face.   
  
“And she’s hispanic! You got yourself a keeper,  _ hermano _ !” He laughed, ushering us over to an empty table. “So, I already know what you want Mr. Pool, 34 tacos extra beef. How about you mamacita?”   
  
“ _ Una torta por favor, con papas fritas. _ ” I ordered, folding my hands on the table.   
  
“You got it girl, coming right up.” He grinned, walking away.    
  
“You speak spanish?!” Deadpool exclaimed. “Wait, does this mean you know how to make Tacos? Chimichangas? Fajitas? Dude, if you can actually cook all that I swear I’ll marry you right here!”   
  
“Fuck you, not all hispanic people know how to make tacos!” I scoffed. “...But yes I do know how to make all that.” I added begrudgingly, kinda pissed off that I lived up to my own stereotypes. “Please don’t marry me” I added.   
  
“If you had a dick I’d suck it” He sighed dreamily, framing his face with his hands like a lady.   
  
“Thanks?” I answered confused, my eyebrows furrowing.    
  
“Any other skills you’re hiding from me? What did you do for a living? Favorite food? What flavor of spanish are you?” Deadpool asked, firing off question after question.   
  
“Dude, slow the fuck down.” I groaned, trying to process all his questions. “Uh… Well… I can burp the alphabet and I know how to play the drums. I never had a job. The only reason I have a car is because I somehow won $1000 off a scratch ticket once. My favorite food is hot cheetos, and I’m Puerto rican.” I answered, counting each one on my fingers. “Alright, now it’s my turn to hammer you with questions. What’s your real name? Why is your name Deadpool? Why did you decide to be a mercenary and why are you stopping?” Deadpool shifted uncomfortably in his chair, staring at the table.   
  
“I never took you as the drum playing type. If anything, I was sure you’d play bass, what with the man hands and all” He replied, totally brushing off my questions.

  
“Hey fuck you I answered your questions so answer mine” I demanded.   
  
“Uggghhhhhh FINE. My name is Wade. I rather not get into my history just yet. I’m not completely stopping the mercenary thing, just taking on less jobs. I want to impress Spidey, and I want to be looked up to. It also kinda sucks when everyone in the superhero game looks at you like your a piece of shit and a nuisance.” He crossed his arms and looked away.   
  
“Man, I feel you on the last part.” I added, playing with a sugar packet. “At my foster home no one took me seriously, and I felt like a burden on my foster mother and on the state. Hell, on my last day my so called ‘support team’ didn’t say shit. They just made me sign some papers and I was on my way.”   
  
“Here you guys are! One torta and fries and 34 tacos!” A young woman smiled, placing our plates down on the table.   
  
“Thank you, Gloria, you beautiful babe” Deadpool winked, pulling his plate closer to him.   
  
“Oh anytime Deadpool” She giggled, backing away from the table and returning to whatever part of the restaurant she was in before.   
  
“Fucked her in the backroom once. Sub par. You’d think a hottie like that would have some mad skills, but nah. I give it a C+” He commented casually, rolling up his mask.    
  
“You’re an asshole.” I commented half heartedly, focusing on the scars that criss crossed his skin. It was… oddly interesting. I felt the sudden urge to reach out and feel them under my fingertips, but obviously didn’t. Instead, I loaded my fries with salt, pepper and ketchup.    
  
“So that’s a torta. Never had one.” He spoke around a mouthful of taco. I took a bite out of my sandwich, dramatically rolling my eyes to the back of my head.   
  
“MMMMMMmmmm so good” I moaned, wiping the sauce from the corner of my mouth. “Should have ordered it DP, really, you're missing out.” I teased, taking another sloppy bite.   
  
“Now you’re just teasing me” He frowned after shoving another taco into his mouth.   
  
“Sooooooooo gooooooood” I cried, actual tears flowing from my eyes. Another hidden talent I had, crying on cue.   
  
“hhhhhhhHHHH’OKAY GIVE ME THAT SANDWICH!” He yelled, snatching the sandwich out of my hands.   
  
“Hey!” I yelled, genuinely offended. He took a large bite out of it before placing it back onto my plate.   
  
“You dirty liar” he spoke through a mouthful of food. “It’s not even that good!”   
  
“That was the joke asshat!” I whined, poking at my limp sandwich. “Now I don’t even want it you fucking toddler.” His response was cut short when suddenly gunshots rang throughout the entire restaurant. Everything was instantly slow motion, as everyone screamed and the music playing over the loudspeaker was cut off. I didn’t have time to react, as Deadpool already jumped across the table and pushed me under it.    
  
“Consider this your first lesson kid” He whispered, before unsheathing his katanas and walking to the middle of the restaurant. I watched fearfully from under the table, as three masked gunman approached the merc.    
  
“Ah, Deadpool. The boss wanted us to send you a message.” One of them spoke threateningly, pointing a gun at him. “You were asked to do a job and do it right, and you fucked it up. Now he wants your head.”    
  
“Yeah, well good luck with that.” Deadpool growled, swinging his katana and cutting the guys hand that was holding the gun off. The man let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching his wrist. “Oouh, I hope that wasn’t your jerking hand” Deadpool quipped, as the man fell to his knees and passed out from blood loss. The other two instantly shot at Deadpool as he walked closer and closer, soon emptying their clips. The bullets hit deadpool, but he kept walking as if it was nothing. When they were out of bullets and out of options, they simply fled. I’m pretty sure they crapped their pants. I slowly crawled from out from under the table, dumfounded. He wiped his katana on his pants before sheathing them, and turned to face me. “Well, that went well.” He shrugged. “Not the quite lesson I wanted to show you but whatever”   
  
I couldn’t focus on him as I stared down at the handless man on the floor, blood pooling around him. I’ve never seen anything so grizzly in my life, and something was telling me I’d probably see way worse if I was gonna work with Deadpool. I felt bile rising in my throat and soon I was puking my torta all over the floor.    
  


“Oh don’t be a baby, a severed hand is not that bad.” He sighed, walking up to me and placing a hand on my back as I dry heaved. “GLORIA!” He yelled, and soon the mousey woman scrambled towards him.   
  
“Yes D-Deadpool?” She asked nervously.   
  
“Can you be a doll and bag these up for me? I think we’re gonna have to end this lunch break a little early”   
  
“Y-Yes, right away” She nodded, running behind the counter to grab some take-out containers.

  
  
Yeah, I was seriously reconsidering this whole sidekick thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing left inside... get it? cause she puked it all out? hahahahaha.... yeah. Also it's a black flag song. All the chapters are gonna be named after them.


	3. TV Party/Kickin' and Stickin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gore, fighting and Deadpool being a filthy liar.

It was a week since the hand slicing incident, and I still felt a bit queasy thinking about it. But I wasn’t one to just abandon an agreement, so I decided to do some research. Deadpool had left this morning to go do a job in New Jersey, leaving me to hold down the fort. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He had said, and I snorted, rolling my eyes. I had spent the rest of the day watching the goriest horror movies I owned, just to break myself in. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to, in fact I enjoyed them, so I decided they were way too tame. For this particular research project I was going to need to get ultra comfortable in order to get out of my comfort zone, ya dig?  
  
I grabbed a blanket from Wade’s room, and curled up on the couch with it, wrapping myself up like a burrito. Then I lit a cigarette, and opened my laptop. I looked up real life gore images, which redirected me to a website called bestgore.com. I gagged at the first picture, almost closing my laptop then and there. “Holy fuck, who would willingly make a website dedicated to this twisted shit?” I asked myself, taking a deep drag from my cigarette. Then again, I was the one willingly searching this shit up. I exhaled a plume of smoke, and felt a new wave of determination wash over me. This was a hurdle I had to overcome if I was gonna be palling around with Deadpool.

 

5 hours, 320 images, and a pack of cigarettes later the sun started to peek over the horizon. I felt like death, and probably looked like it too. I would know, because I’ve been staring at it all night. As I exited the window, I felt a sort of apathetic numbness. I felt truly hollow and emptied of any emotions. Too tired. Too scarred. The DVD menu for freddy vs jason was in an endless loop on TV, and I caught sight of my reflection in the darkness of my laptop screen as it finally died. I was still wrapped up in DP’s blanket, and my hazel eyes were like two dull and lifeless dark voids. My dark curly hair sat in a messy heap of a bun on top of my head, and I truly looked dead. I heard the door knob jiggle, and directed my attention to the door as Deadpool walked in.  
  
“Woah, wasn’t expecting you to be awake this early.” He spoke, surprised. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor and closed the door behind him. “You look like shit.” He stated simply.   
  
“Thanks” I replied sarcastically, my voice hoarse from lack of use and cigarettes.   
  
“No seriously, you look like a human cigarette, and smell like one too.” He joked, walking over to me a sitting on the couch. “Oh, Freddy vs Jason, nice choice!” He spoke way too loudly and cheerfully, smacking me hard on the back.   
  
“Jesus christ, Wade.” I gritted out, closing my laptop and carelessly tossing it onto the coffee table. “Go like, talk to a wall or something. Leave me alone. I’m tired.” I snapped grumpily, curling up even more into the blanket, falling to my side opposite of Wade and screwing my eyes shut. A sleepless Kiana is a grumpy Kiana.   
  
“Jeez, alright oscar the couch grouch, I’ll leave you alone.” He spoke defensively, though I know I didn’t really offend him. I felt his weight leave the couch, and that was enough for me to slowly drift off into dream land.

 

  
_“Kiana…” He growled menacingly, his voice seemingly coming from all directions. It was dark, so dark. I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. My heart was pounding as fear turned my blood into ice._ _  
_ _  
_ _“W-Who are you?!” I yelled, backing away. I felt myself bump into something hard and cold._ _  
_   
“I’m your worst nightmare” He whispered into my ear, grabbing my arm roughly. I felt myself being thrown roughly to the floor, and I smelled something rancid and putrid invading my senses. I felt my hand brush against something warm and sticky and mushy, then something small and hard like teeth.  

_Suddenly, there was light. It was blinding, and I raised an arm to shield myself from it except… there wasn’t any arm there! It was a bloody stump! I let out a terrified scream, scrambling to sit up. All sorts of tubes were connected to my body. My blurry eyes soon adjusted, and I took in my surroundings. I was on a hospital bed except I was surrounded by bloody and mutilated corpses. They  were all crawling towards me, calling my name… Kiana… Kiana…_

 

  
“Kiana!” Wade yelled.   
  
“Ah! What!” I squaked, flailing and falling of the couch. I landed in Wade’s strong arms, and he helped me stand up, his hands resting on my elbows.   
  
“Dude, you were like, crying in your sleep” He spoke, concerned. It was the first time I heard his voice sound genuine. I raised my hand to my face and sure enough, I felt wet tears.

“Oh shit.” I stated simply, looking down at my hands and then looking up into Deadpool’s masked face. I kind of wish I could see his eyes, his actual facial expression. I kind of caught on to the fact that he didn’t like to take off the mask, since he walked around wearing it 24/7 as if it were apart of his skin. I’ve only ever seen him out of his suit twice, and even then he kept the mask on and kept his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “It was just a nightmare, no big deal.” I said dismissively, looking away and pulling my arms towards myself. A vivid, disturbing nightmare. I shouldn’t have looked up all that gore.

“Aw, did you watch too many horror movies last night?” He asked in a jokingly patronizing tone, “Awww, poor wittle Kiana” He cooed, pinching one of my cheeks. I slapped his gloved hand away, my face turning red.   
  
“Fuck off.” I spat. I could tell that asshole was grinning behind his mask, and he simply walked towards the kitchen.   
  
“I made pancakes!” He called out behind him.   
  
\---   
  
After stuffing myself to the brim with pancakes, I finally took a look at the clock on the wall.   
  
“Holy shit, 7:47pm already?!” I asked, perplexed. It felt like I was in a time warp.   
  
“Yeah, you were out cold. Wasted a whole day of training.” Deadpool spoke around mouthfuls of pancake. He swallowed audibly. “But that’s okay cause I got something special planned for you” He grinned. Though I was kinda grossed out by his lack of table manners, I couldn’t help to notice how nice it was to see him smile, to see an actual part of him. The real him.   
  
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I asked, a little distracted as I pulled out another cigarette and placed it betwixt my lips.   
  
“Night patrol, with your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He smirked. I let my cigarette drop from lips.   
  
“ _The_ Spiderman?!” I asked incredulously, my heart rate speeding up. Everyone at the foster home knew how much I liked Spiderman. I loved him, probably even more than I loved my old band, Michael Jackson AND Black Flag combined. And that’s saying _a hella lot_ . “B-But I’m not even close to being ready! I’ve only been training for a week! I can barely throw a punch! _I don’t even have a cool superhero name!!!_ ” I babbled frantically, feeling extremely frazzled.   
  
“Chill, Spazzy McSpazpants. You’re just gonna be hanging around and watching us do our superhero thang. Take some notes and junk, And maybe, I’ll let you punch a guy!” He spoke, saying the last part excitedly. He rolled down his mask.   
  
“But what about my cool superhero name? and my cool superhero outfit? We can’t go out kicking butt as Spiderman, Deadpool, and a random chick in a Minor Threat T-shirt!” I whined. Deadpool gave me a long look.   
  
“Ohh, I see what this is. You wanna impress Spidey, huh?” He teased. I felt my face grow hot.   
  
“N-No, I just--”   
  
“You like LIKE him!” Deadpool sang, Standing up and pointing at me in a _‘J'accuse!’_ fashion. My face grew even hotter and I shrank in my seat.   
  
“Not even, dumbass. He’s just my favorite superhero is all..” I insulted half-heartedly, giving way to embarrassment. I mean, sure he was attractive in a heroic, muscley, spidery kinda way but _come-the-fuck-on._ He was a superhero.   
  
“Okay, okay, I’ll help you seduce the spider. But I can’t guarantee it’ll work cause I’ve been trying for _years_ .”   
  
“I DON’T WANT TO SEDUCE HIM!” I yelled, standing up from my chair. “Is it too much to ask for a hero persona?!”

“Well you were right about one thing, you’re only a week into your training so I don’t think you’ve earned a hero persona just yet.” He explained, walking into his room. “Just throw on a jumpsuit or a hoodie or something” He called out, closing the door behind him. I huffed, walking to one of my boxes in the living room. Alright, Kiana. Calm down. You’re just gonna be tagging along with _one of new york's best superheros._ I dug through my box, looking for something remotely decent to wear. I threw on a black spidey sweatshirt that I honestly outgrew three years ago, a small strip of skin showing at the bottom. Next I threw on some vintage mom jeans with my blue doc martins, and quickly applied some eyeliner so I could feel at least a little bit human. Leaving the house without eyeliner felt like leaving the house naked, which is neither smart nor socially acceptable. I let my hair do whatever it wanted, because whatever I didn’t care _that_ much. By the time I was done getting ready, Deadpool was geared up and standing impatiently by the door.

  
“ _C’mon_ we don’t have all night!” He called out.   
  
“Alright, alright I’m ready.” I replied, walking into the livingroom. He immediately went stiff and was uncharacteristically silent, and I couldn’t exactly tell what the problem was with the mask hiding his emotions. I was expecting him to tease me about the sweatshirt or something, but nope. “...you good, DP?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
“Uh, yeah.” He replied quickly, opening the door and leaving the room hastily. I quickly followed him, closing the door behind us. “I told Spidey to meet us on the roof at 8:30 so we should really hurry up.”   
  
We entered the security stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time. It eventually led to a rusty door that looked like it used to be padlocked shut, but someone shot the lock off. Deadpool opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in and engulfed me, biting at my exposed skin. I shivered immediately. I should really have worn a coat or something. We stepped out onto the rooftop, and that’s when I saw him, crouched in his signature pose, at the very edge of the roof, overlooking the city.   
  
“SPIDEYY! BABYY!” Deadpool yelled, making the poor spider jump in surprise. I thought he had a spider sense?

  
“Deadpool.” He replied simply, before turning around and standing up.   
  
“Who’s this?” He asked, puzzled. I felt ridiculous now, wearing a Spiderman sweatshirt. I probably looked like some type of crazed fan.   
  
“This” Deadpool spoke, throwing his arm around me and roughly pulling me close “Is my main squeeze, my new sidekick! If I’m gonna be a superhero I’m gonna need one!” He said proudly, his chest puffing out just a bit. I shot him an annoyed look. “She’s still in training, so I thought it’d be cool to bring her out on patrol with us to get the whole superhero experience!”   
  
“He didn’t like, kidnap you or anything right? Is he holding you against your will?” Spiderman asked me genuinely, walking closer to us.   
  
“Oh, ouch! That really hit me in the feels” Deadpool whined, “You really think I’d do something like that, Spiderbabe?” Spiderman crossed his arms and shot him a look “Okay, point taken. But I told you I’m turning a new leaf! No more bad things!”   
  
“So you’re _willingly_ hanging around this guy?” Spiderman asked me skeptically, puzzled.   
  
“Only because he’s giving me a place to stay. I would have been homeless on the streets if it wasn’t for him” I admitted truthfully, looking up at Deadpool. Spiderman seemed to relax a bit.   
  
“Well, that’s… nice.” He admitted, placing a hand on Deadpool’s shoulder. “Good job.” Deadpool’s entire body seemed to vibrate with excitement. He really was like an excitable dog. I could see the wide grin beneath his mask as he relished Spidermans praise.   
  
“OMG see, I knew you would think so!! When I saw this girl crying at my doorstep I knew I had to help her, I asked myself, ‘what would spiderman do?’ and then BAM it hit me! So I took her inside and gently asked her to stay with me for as long as she wants and she was all, ‘Oh Deadpool! You’re so kind! Can I be your sidekick?’ and I was like, ‘Nah, I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt’ and then she just kept begging me and I couldn’t resist I mean just look at that face!” He word-vomited. I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster. I jerked away from him, slapping him on the arm.   
  
“That’s not how it went at all you fucki--!” I snapped, but he covered my mouth with his hand and mushed my face, pushing me behind him.   
  
“She also has this nasty habit of lying which I’m also trying to help her fix. What a poor, poor soul.” He finished solemnly. I bit down hard on one of his fingers and he yelped, pulling his hand away from my face.   
  
“You deserved that, asshole.” I growled, folding my arms. Spiderman pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperated sigh.   
  
“Let’s just start the patrol.” He groaned.   
  
The next few hours went by mostly uneventful, a few stolen purses here and there, a couple of near rape scenarios. The night was mostly filled with Deadpool and I getting into heated arguments and Spiderman having to break it up. Then Spiderman would argue with him and I would have to break it up. It was all around… just a mess. A complete mess. Finally, we heard some distant gunshots. Spidermans head instantly shot up, looking in the direction of the gunshots.   
  
“Let’s go” He said in a serious tone, shooting a web and swinging away.   
  
“This is when things start getting good!” Deadpool sang happily, running and jumping roof to roof in the direction Spidey swung in. I ran after him, surprising myself when I actually kept up with his pace. I guess just a week of very aggressive training was all I needed to improve my stamina. I was still in excruciating pain and extremely out of breath when we arrived to our destination, though. Spiderman was standing at the edge of a roof, holding up a hand to signal us to stop and be quiet. I peered over the edge of the building, watching what looked like a gang fight unfold in an alleyway. There were two small groups of people, each one of them holding some type of weapon, though one group was outnumbered, five to three. Another person was on the ground, obviously shot dead. The three men and the one on the ground were dressed a little too fancy to just be some type of gang members.   
  
“You guys think you’re big and bad? That’s why one of you pussy ass bitches ain’t waking up tomorrow” One of the guys from the bigger group snarled. He seemed to be the leader of the crew. The smaller group held their ground, seemingly unfazed.   
  
“You guys will get yours, don’t worry. The boss doesn’t take kindly to common street thugs messing with his plans.” One of the three spoke cooley. The way he said that line reminded me of the taco incident… in fact, now that I think about it the men in the restaurant were dressed similarly too. I looked over to Deadpool and cocked an eyebrow, and he shrugged, looking towards Spidey. Then just like that, he lept into action, leaping off the roof and landing in the middle of both crews with grace. Deadpool soon followed after, landing not so gracefully beside him. I layed on the rooftop with my head over the edge, watching the action from a safe distance like I was doing all night.   
  
“What the fuck?” One of the gang members spat. That’s when things got real. One of them started to shoot, and Deadpool jumped in front of Spiderman, pulling out his Katanas and deflecting the bullets with amazing accuracy. The two worked in perfect sync, taking out each one of the bad guys. Deadpool didn’t mortally wound anyone this time (but that’s because each time he would try to, Spiderman would stop him) and soon each one of the gang members were disarmed and webbed to the wall, but the fancy men in suits managed to slip by and were currently running out of the alleyway.   
  
“Guys!! The other ones!! They’re getting away!” I yelled, and they both looked up at me, their heads cocked to the side. “The!!! The fancy ones!!” I shouted frustratedly. “Stop looking at me go get them!!” Spiderman took off after the men and I scrambled up and ran to the other side of the building to watch, but the men were... gone. Spiderman looked perplexed, and he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed they vanished. Something felt so... bizarre about this. Deadpool soon followed behind Spidey, looking confused too. Spidey just grabbed him and webbed them both up to the roof again. “Did you see that? They just… disappeared!” I exclaimed.   
  
“Yeah I know… something tells me this wasn’t the usual gang fight.” Spiderman answered, scratching his head.   
  
“But did you see us kick ass down there?!” Deadpool asked, pushing past Spidey. “Cool, right?”   
  
“Yeah, totally.” I agreed truthfully. “Kinda sad I didn’t get to punch anyone in the face though.” I joked half-heartedly. I was still kinda dumbfounded by the disappearing mobsters.   
  
“What?! There’s still time before the cops come, young one!” Deadpool announced, picking me up, running, and jumping off the roof. We landed in the same alleyway as the fight, and he put me down, ushering me towards the unconscious gang members. “Give it to’em!” He encouraged. Spiderman dropped down next to Deadpool.   
  
“Seriously? Stop fooling around guys we should get out of here.” He tried to reason. I knew I should listen to him but… I couldn’t help it. I really wanted to punch someone, and I never had before. I drew my arm back and threw a hard punch to the leader's face, feeling his nose crunch under my fist.   
  
“Holy shit! You totally broke his nose!!!” Deadpool squealed happily. He scooped me up into a tight hug, spinning me around. “Look at you, breaking people’s noses and junk! I feel like a proud parent! And you used such good form too!” He praised. Okay, I have to admit, that was so worth it. I even had a little adrenaline rush, and it always felt good to be validated.   
  
“Ugh, I’m never taking you guys out on patrol ever again.” Spiderman groaned. “Let’s get the hell out of dodge.”


End file.
